Saturday, January 31, 2015

Journal of an Infrequent Journal Writer

Earlier
this month Maureen found an old photo album with fast fading handwritten pages
I wrote years ago.She suggested that I
type them up before they are lost forever to fading time. So…

September 22, 1979

I've been
threatening this for a long time.I
haven't kept a journal since 1972-1973 when I was a senior in high school.I'm starting one now for several
reasons:I see an interesting, exciting
life ahead for me, a baby on the way!, and I'd like to record it.And, I'd really like to write a book or books
in the future and I'm sure this will help.

I threw
away my first journal.Maybe I'll regret
it someday, but I don't think so.I was
alot [1-31-15 I finally did learn how to spell a lot] different person back
then.I didn't like myself too much, and
reading that old journal reminded me of that – so I didn't like the journal
either.The more I changed – and I have
changed – the more painfull [and painful, too] reading it became.

I hope that
won't happen with this journal.One rule
(or non-rule) will help:I'll write only
when I have something to write and as little or as much as I feel like writing.No minimums or maximums.No finger-tapping or brain-wracking, trying
to come with something to fill in every day of the year.

October 15, 1979

I tried for
thirty minutes to get to sleep, but I couldn't.This was my traditional nap-before-going-back-to-work-after-my-night-off
nap.I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd
write.

(I want to
interject something here.When I was
laying in bed thinking, I was really ready to write, I was rarin' to go!But now I can't get my thoughts
together.I took twenty minutes to write
that first paragraph – really struggled with it, wracked my brain.That's exactly what I promised to avoid.Maybe I'm warmed up).

I layed
[laid] in bed and came to two conclusions.One, that Zeny has an aire of childlike innocence when she sleeps, her
face free of wrinkles and worries. Not
earthshaking, but that's what I was thinking.Two, having a baby is really mind-boggling and mysterious!It's all hard to comprehend.I'll take any chance I can get to hold my
hand on Zeny's stomach and feel the baby.This sleepless thirty minutes was no exception.I could feel a little body right there in
Zeny's stomach, our baby!Fascinating!

November 14-15
(written December 28, 1979)

November 14
at 11:30pm, just as I was leaving work to home, Zeny called to say she was in
labor.I whizzed home and found her
complaining of intense pain lasting 45 seconds, about 2 minutes apart – our
baby was on the way!

I waited
outside the Delivery Room area, while Zeny went in for the standard enema and
cervical dilation check.After about 20
minutes of pacing and worried excitement, I was allowed in.

A concerned
looking maternity nurse handed me a scrub suit."We're not getting fetal heart tones," she said."It may be the machine, or it may be
more serious than that."

Zeny lay on
the delivery table.I walked into the
delivery room, a step of confidence, a step of fear, then a step of hope.A blue-green surgical suit, mask and cap hid
much of my feelings.My eyes probably
broadcast the fear and hope I felt, but all were too busy to notice.

Zeny rested
on the table – briefly.She motioned
that a contraction was beginning and the doctor ordered "push".The contraction subsided and Daisy, maternity
nurse, again attempted to pick up our baby's heart beat with the Doppler.Silence.

Zeny – what
a sport!She knew nothing of what was
really happening.The nurses talked in
low tones and I kept silent.She pushed
during contractions, rested in-between, barely a peep out of her, working hard
at birthing our baby, indifferent to all else.

During
contractions the doctor performed the episiotomy – local anesthetic and
"snip, snip, ship," thus a larger opening to help the baby make its
debut without ripping mom's vagina.

November 15 (written
January 16, 1983)

Some more
contractions and then she was born.We
didn't have to wait for the doctor to turn the baby when the head was out to
make it easier for the shoulders.She
was born all at once, very quickly, but all motion was the result of the last
contraction.

The nurse
held a stethoscope to our baby's chest.The
traditional spank to promote breath would not be necessary because the nurse
looked down and shook her head "no".

I will
never forget that scene – how Teresa lay lifeless, how the nurse used the
stethoscope and shook her head.Nor will
I forget Zeny.She strained to lift up
her head to see, still oblivious to it all.The nurse had wrapped Teresa in a white towel and were laying this
bundle on her chest."What did I
have?" asked Zeny.

My feelings
at this point were of shock and disappointment, little grief, which would come
later – and still comes on occasion.

"It's
dead, hon." I said painfully.

"Huh?"I'll never forget the way she said it.It was not what she expected to hear, she had
no idea, and the words belonged to a television show – to Dr. Welby, or
whatever – and not in this delivery room where she had just delivered our
baby.

"She's
dead, hon."Zeny frowned in
disbelief, straining to see the lump of baby, Teresa Jean, being held by nurses
on her chest.My had was on her shoulder
and I was down closer to her ear.She
kept frowning in disbelief and shock.They took the baby away to wash it.We just stayed there in silence, Zeny staring at the ceiling, me at
Zeny.

November 15 (written November 15,
1985)

At the time
I couldn't grasp the seriousness.I
thought the grief would be at a minimum and be brief.I though we could move right on to other
things and forget all about this.At the
very first instants I envisioned that there would be no burial, no funeral, no
name.I thought the hospital would just
"take care of it."

Well, I'm
glad that it didn't end up that way.I'm
glad we handled things – and continue to do so – as if she had lived a few
months and then died.Almost as if.I always keep the "almost" in
perspective.

And yes, we
did move on to other things – to Maureen and Lorna!!But I do not feel the least bit embarrassment
about remembering Teresa on her birthday, visiting her grave, etc. – even six
years later.

January 31, 2015

After that
last paragraph I rambled on for another two.Our friend from Guam, John Wilson, had just died a week before.Most of what I said seems weak and irrelevant
now, compared to all that has happened since.The only relevant thing I said in those two paragraphs was, "I
think of Teresa and I think of what could have been.I think of John and I think of what was,
and what could have been."

Here's why
that matters.With a stillborn baby,
there is only "what could have been".But on November 15, 1979, and the days that followed, Zenny and I
promised ourselves, and the World, that we would never forget Teresa.She would be an equal.She would be more than a lost baby.She would never be forgotten.We would think of her on November 15 every
year.We would visit her every year. And we have kept our promises and never missed
a year.

We gave her
a name, not just "baby Waite" like I had imagined was the
protocol.We gave her the name we had
planned to give a daughter.We didn't
save the name for the next daughter.That was her name.Teresa Jean
Waite.She was what was and what
could have been.

Some more
"never forgets":In our time
after the delivery, as we visited together with Teresa on Zeny's delivery bed,
I will never forget how warm she was.I
wondered, I hoped… had they made a mistake?Was she still alive?Was she
really dead?On about November 16, 1979,
my mom and dad came to visit us at Kaiser Hospital on North Greeley in
Portland. I will never forget the obvious surprise of Kaiser staff when we
asked that they bring Teresa up to Zeny's room.Our request must have been unusual at that time.I like to think now that we helped change the
usual. I remember my co-worker at St. Vincent's Hospital who was shocked that
we took pictures of Teresa that day they brought her up to us, as well as a
picture of her in her little baby coffin.I don't think that's unusual now.I think we helped change the usual.

(Of
interest, this would be the hospital where Maureen and Lorna would be born, in
1980 and 1982 respectively.This
building is no longer a hospital, now Adidas USA headquarters.Also of interest, the hospital in Prairie
City, OR, where I was born on January 12, 1955, is now a nursing home; I like
to think that I could do as salmon do, if I wish).

So much has
happened since November 15, 1979.New
lives have been created and old lives have passed away.Maureen and Lorna were born, grew up, and
married wonderful sons-in-law.Now there
are grandchildren, Elsa and Azara.Two
first cousins passed away prematurely.Grandparents have passed on.Most
of my aunts and uncles are now gone.Mom
died on December 4, 2014, and Dad five weeks later on January 7, 2015.I was once young, fulfilling my role with the
old.Now I am among the old, fulfilling
my role as uncle and grandfather to the young.

And then
back to Teresa, in her special place as our first, our oldest daughter, where
this journal entry began. Teresa remains
an equal, who truly was, and was what could have been.

4 comments:

This is a beautiful (a huge understatement) entry. How wonderful to be able to read these words now as an adult with children of my own…How wonderful that you and Mom helped change the 'usual' and made and kept the promise of never forgetting…How wonderful that Lorna and I were so much included in celebrating Teresa's memory, and even Elsa and Azara have been included. I love you so much Dad.

I agree with what Maureen said about a beautiful and hugely understatement. Richard has always kept Teresa story and not forgotten.I remember going to the cemetery with you and Zenny the year that we visited you. I did not know that was her birthday. I would have understood more if you told me about her. I could only fathom the pain that you and Zenny went through at that time. I guess that is the only reason why you did not say a word. Richard told me at the cemetery and I respected you both by not saying a word

Teresa, our special first niece, and the rest of the family will never be forgotten for me and Richard.

The Waites, in my eyes, have been pioneers in changing the "status quo" for the better.

We love you, Zenny, Maureen, Lorna and their husband and our grand nieces.